


Fever

by Marrilyn



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Banter, F/F, Fever, Flu, Overprotective Reader, Sick Character, Sick Rowena, Sickfic, Stubborn Rowena, Vulnerability, Vulnerable Rowena, Weak Rowena
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-16
Updated: 2017-12-16
Packaged: 2019-02-15 17:11:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13035690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marrilyn/pseuds/Marrilyn
Summary: Rowena has the flu and reader takes it upon herself to nurse her back to health.





	Fever

Rowena had been through it all.

Beatings.

Torture.

Hell, even death itself.

You name it, she's lived it.

Your heart filled with worry every time she'd return home with a bruise, or a monster from her past would capture and hurt her and leave you to pick up the pieces.

But even then, Rowena lived. No matter how wounded or broken her body was, she would pull through. She would always come up on top with a big smirk on her face, like a middle finger to those who thought they could destroy her. No bruises or scrapes could taint her pride.

You, in turn, were proud of her. Of her strength, her will, her immense confidence you could only dream of having.

Never, in a million years, would you have thought something as silly as a flu would beat her.

It started with coughs a few days back. You told her to take it easy, but she dismissed your concerns, insisting she was alright. After all, they were just simple coughs.

They eventually evolved into coughing fits that had, two of three times, left her breathless. Once again, she'd claimed she was alright. A few coughs couldn't hurt her.

Everything culminated this morning. You were surprised to awake in an empty bed, used to Rowena cuddling you if she were to wake first. You found her on the couch in the living room, struggling to sit straight, fingers limply wrapped around the cup of tea laid on the coffee table.

"Rowena?" you called gently.

"Morning, Y/N."

Her voice was low, almost sleepy, and when she slightly raised her head to look at you, you wanted to weep. Her skin was pale, even more so than usual, the color of snow. Had she not been sitting and talking, you would have thought her dead. Color was drained from her cheeks, their usual rosiness replaced by blankness. 

"Morning," you replied, looking her over from head to toe. Slouched over, barely supported by her elbows, she looked on the verge of falling apart. As if the softest of pushes would knock her down and break her into thousands of pieces, like a fragile, already cracked glass statue.

Without uttering a single word, you pressed your hand to her forehead. Her skin was hot to the touch, as if her skull was made of pure fire trying to burn its way to the surface.

"I'm fine," she said, keeping her head down, not having the strength to lift it up to look you in the eyes.

"Sweetheart, you're burning up," you said matter-of-factly. That excuse may have worked these past few days, but not anymore. You couldn't let a fever, especially one of this intensity, slide. "Come on, let's get you to bed."

"Nothing's wrong with me. A wee cup of tea and I'll be as good as new," she insisted.

Her words would have had more merit to them had she not almost whispered them.

"That's what you've been saying for days and look at you now," you chastised. She couldn't even argue properly. The realization of how weak she was sank in, tugging at your heart. A powerful creature such as her shouldn't be  _this_  weak. Rowena had her vulnerable moments, but never before had she sounded so purely and utterly broken. "You're going to bed and that's final."

Wisely choosing not to argue, for she knew it was pointless when you got into mother hen mode, she said, "It's cold there."

She followed it up with a pout, pouring her remaining strength into looking up into your eyes. You were far from a genius, but you knew she was trying to manipulate you. She knew full well you could never resist her when she made that face. One pout from her, and you would fall to your knees if she were to ask you to.

You couldn't deny, though, that she had a point. She must have gotten up much earlier, for the fireplace had already warmed up the living room. The bedroom, on the other hand, was cold. The furnace hadn't been lit since the two of you went to sleep last night.

"Lie here, then," you told her, a touch of sternness in your tone. She rolled her eyes, prompting you to narrow your yours. "Don't you give me attitude, missy! Let me help you."

"By treating me like a child?"

"By treating you like someone who has the flu."

Rowena sighed. "It's not going to kill me."

"You're still hurt, and I don't like that. Wait here."

You headed back for the bedroom, ignoring her mutterings. She could complain all she wanted, but you had the upper hand now. She was the one barely sitting up. Before she could disregard your warnings, but now, until she got better, you were going to take care of her whether she wanted you to or not.

"This is completely unnecessary, darling," she said when you returned, a pillow and a blanket in hand. "I've been sick before. It will pass."

"It'll pass much faster if you do as you're told."

Setting down the pillow, you helped her lie down. You weren't sure whether she was too weak, or she'd finally come to see it your way, but she made no protests, doing exactly what you instructed her to.

"There you go," you said as you placed a blanket over her, making sure every inch of her was covered.

"You're so cruel," she mumbled. "Taking advantage of my weakness… This isn't a fair fight."

"You'll thank me for it later," you said with a small smile.

"Never," she hissed.

"Right," you said sarcastically.

"I hate you."

"Sure you do."

You made a quick run for the kitchen, preparing a potion to help speed up the recovery. Your cooking skills were far from admirable, and you hoped Rowena wouldn't mind store-bought canned soups too much. Her refined tastes would have to bite their tongue until she got better. Thankfully, you were skilled enough to brew a decent potion. Rowena would still complain about it, no doubt, but deep down, you knew she would appreciate your efforts.

Once the potion was done, you returned to the living room, putting it on the coffee table to cool down. You found Rowena clutching the blanket to her chest, curled into a fetal position as her body trembled with shivers.

"Darling, I'm cold," she said weakly, all sass gone from her tone.

Without uttering a word, you rushed to fetch another blanket, wrapping her up comfortably.

"It's okay, sweetheart," you said, heart breaking at her vulnerable state. "You're gonna be okay."

Carefully, you joined her on the couch, crawling in behind her. There wasn't much space, but you had just enough to lie comfortably. Gently wrapping your arms around her, you held her to you. A hug wouldn't do much, but you hoped it would at least bring her a sense of security, give her strength to keep fighting. A mere illness couldn't bring down the powerful Rowena MacLeod.

"You'll get sick," she warned, easing into your embrace.

"I'll be fine. Got my flu shot two weeks ago, remember?"

Even if you hadn't, you would have still done this. Caring for Rowena topped concern for illness. Besides, if you were to get sick, you knew she would treat you the same way you treated her. Rowena may have acted tough, but she had a sweet, loving side. She would never let you suffer if could do something about it.

"I love you very much," you said, pressing a kiss to her hair. "Get some rest. If you need anything, I'm right here."

If there was ever a time to spoil her, it was now.

"I might just take you up on that," she teased.

"Within reason," you quickly said.

"Be kind, dear," she responded. "I'm sick."

"At least now you admit it."

"Only because I was forced."

"Sure."

She laughed softly. "I do, as well."

"What?" you asked.

"Love you."

 _Yeah, I know,_  you thought, adjusting your hold on her as she shifted to get more comfortable. For if she hadn't loved you, she would have never let you get so close, would have never trusted you with her health and safety.

Just that was enough to make you the happiest girl in the world.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Edited by OswinTheStrange.
> 
> Special thanks to BewitchedSquirrel for sharing her experiences with the flu for me. It's always good to get a different perspective. Illnesses don't affect everyone the same way.


End file.
